


It's a Paper Crane Parade

by coolbyrne



Series: New Leaves [7]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:11:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: Sequel to "It's Only a Paper Crane". Jane finishes the origami challenge and gets her wish.





	

A/N: Ash Brooks is an original character I created in “Bread and Butter”. This is a sequel to “It’s Only a Paper Crane”, though that one doesn’t need to be read in order to enjoy this one. Big reference to "In Sickness and in Health". Longer notes at the end of the fic. 

For happycamper5, who never finished the challenge! :p But I’ll always, gladly, grant you your wish.

…..

She began finding them everywhere. All sizes and made of every kind of paper imaginable. Post-It notes with doodles that Maura surmised Jane had done while on hold with some government agency, if the exclamation marks and angry cartoons were anything to go by. The sports section of the Boston Herald. Ruled pages from the notepad she knew lived near Jane’s computer. A receipt to the burger place that Maura secretly loved despite her objections.

Jane said nothing about the cranes, and Maura did the same. She hadn’t forgotten the challenge she’d given Jane almost a year ago, but she could forgive the brunette if she had. After all this time, they were still reeling from Barry Frost’s tragic death, and Jane had had her own issues with accepting her new partner. On top of everything else, while they had settled nicely into a relationship, Jane’s marriage proposal had been an impromptu one, and now two months on, they still hadn’t discussed it any further. She glanced at her bare ring finger and sighed. The little pink crane on her pencil cup pulled her from her mood. Smiling, she placed it in the palm of her hand, but not before checking the bottom. As expected, the information scrawled underneath was the next in a series:

#328

….

“Okay, seriously, what’s with the paper cranes?” Brooks asked, leaning back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head.

Jane continued reading her computer screen while folding another edge. “Let’s get Frankie to run those dates again. There’s something off about the passport stamps.”

“Got it.” His chair tipped forward and he clicked his computer back to life. “And the cranes?”

If she knew one thing about her partner of six months, it was that he wouldn’t drop the subject. So, rather than trying to deflect him again, she shrugged. “I fidget.”

“You what?”

“Fidget. Like you cracking your knuckles. Which, by the way, will give you arthritis. Maura said so.”

His laugh was loud and genuine. “She said no such thing, because a woman of her intelligence would know that’s an old wives’ tale.”

Jane scowled. “Are you saying I’m not intelligent?”

“I’m saying it’s a bad habit that drives you crazy, and you’re trying to make me stop by appealing to my fondness for your fiancé.”

“Maybe I should appeal to your fondness for a certain forensic scientist instead.” When the red tinged Brook’s cheeks, she pointed and beamed. “Ha! How are things with Susie?”

“Very well,” he declared, ignoring her waggling eyebrows. “I wonder if I can get her to ask Maura what the cranes are about?”

She took the bait. “Fine. Fine. It was just something that started a few months ago that got pushed aside for awhile.” She looked at the robot action figure on his desk, then at him.

Her unspoken words were clear. “It’s been a busy six months.” He gestured to the crane with his chin. “So what, you told her you’d make about a billion of them?”

She thought about rebutting his exaggeration, but realized how many she had made in the last month. “Funny. 1000.”

His eyebrows shot up. “1000? Shit!”

“In 12 months.”

“Oh, that’s not bad,” he said. “I thought you were gonna say a month.”

“Well, technically, 672.”

“What?”

“I have to make 672 in a month.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“It’s a Japanese thing,” Jane said. “Senbazuru. If you make 1000 cranes in a year, you get a wish.”

He looked off to the side while his brain did the calculations. The obvious conclusion made him laugh. “Oh, Rizzoli! You said it started a few months ago, when you really meant you left it ‘til the last month to start.”

“No,” she defended weakly, “just the last two months.”

“No wonder you’re all-” he mimicked speed-folding. “You did 328 in a month?”

“It’s only 12 every day.”

“Yeah, but now you have 672 left. That’s…”

“Twenty-two every day for 30 days,” she finished for him.

“Shit,” was all he could say. “Wait. You’ve given Maura over 300 of these things in the last month? What’s she doing with them all?”

“I don’t know,” Jane admitted, glad she wasn’t the only one to wonder. “She hasn’t said a word.”

Brooks frowned. “And you’re putting them in places she’s gonna find them?” 

“Yep.”

“Maybe she doesn’t think you’ll finish in time and she doesn’t want to make you feel bad.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence, partner.”

“Just sayin’,” he replied, playfully unapologetic. “So what’s your wish?” When she looked everywhere but at him, he laughed. “You’re doin’ all this and you don’t even have a wish?”

“I can only focus on 672 things at a time, okay?” She ripped another piece of paper from her pad and began folding. “What would you wish for?” His low chuckle brought her eyes to his. “Watch it.”

“What?” His blue eyes twinkled. “Okay, let me think. I wouldn’t waste my time on the Sox, but that’s just me. How about a special day at Fenway?”

“We’ve already done that. It was my birthday present.”

“Race car driving?”

“Also a birthday present.”

“Damn, Jane, just marry her already!” When their laughter died down, Brooks snapped his fingers. “Hey, there you go. Why don’t you ask her to marry you?”

Narrowing her eyes, Jane said, “Did you hit your head? I did that already.”

“Yeah, but if I recall, she was DefCon 1 and coughing so hard you thought an alien was going to burst out of her chest.”

“I didn’t say that.” His raised eyebrow said otherwise. “Whatever. I’m not going to propose again. If I’m going to get a wish, it’s going to be a good one, and that didn’t come out the way it sounded in my head.”

He laughed again. Added a shrug, he said, “Up to you. I mean if that’s how you want her to remember you proposing, that’s your business. I’m sure she doesn’t even think about that when she looks at that ring you gave her.”

The fake sincerity didn’t escape her; they both knew she hadn’t bought Maura a ring yet. “I haven’t found the right one!” she protested. 

“Not my business.”

She shot daggers across the space between them, but he deflected the look with a grin.

“Why am I even talking to you about relationships? You’re divorced. You put your own wife in prison!”

He grabbed his chest. “So cruel, Jane. We came from different worlds. The cards were stacked against us.”

She rolled her eyes at his playful revisionism. “You were an undercover cop and she was Tony Soprano’s daughter.”

“Love that show!” They laughed, then he added, “It was never gonna work anyway - she was a big Yankees fan.”

“Ew.”

“Exactly.” He looked off to the side, as if something had just occurred to him. “I never did find out what happened to the ring I bought her.”

“All right, all right. How about you help with these instead of harassing me?”

He held up his hands. “I don’t want to break a nail.” Dodging a flying pencil, he grinned at his e-mail notification. “Saved by Frankie. The travel dates and the passport stamps are off by a day. Good call.”

She flexed her fingers and sighed. “Wish I could finish these as fast as I can solve a case.” Clearing the cranes into her drawer, she checked for her gun and her badge, and was pleased to see Brooks doing the same. “Let’s go, partner.”

…..

They stood at the door while Maura went over some last minute details. “I’ve put the hotel number in your contacts. Instructions for the espresso machine are tucked underneath it. There’s a fresh container of strawberries for Bass, and I made sure to stock your beer, but please tell me you won’t just eat pizza.”

“Breathe, Maura,” Jane said. “You’re going for one day, right? I think I can manage. Besides, you know Ma. She’ll be over every five minutes to make sure I’m not burning down her favourite daughter’s house.”

Maura smiled. “She’s with Carla in Atlantic City, so you’re on your own.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t correct me about the favourite daughter bit.”

“That’s because I don’t have time for hives,” Maura replied while pretending to remove lint from Jane’s shirt. 

“Listen to you, being sassy.” She wrapped her arms around Maura’s waist. “We would’ve had time if you let me drive you to the airport.”

Maura wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like goodbyes at airports. I much prefer hellos. You’re coming tomorrow?”

With a sly eyebrow, she replied, “If you’re wearing that blue dress, then most definitely.”

It took Maura a moment to pick up on the double entendre. Though she lightly slapped her on the arm, she allowed herself to be pulled into the embrace. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Not my fault,” Jane replied. “You know what they say: ‘Abluedress makes the heart grow fonder’.” The word mash got her a laugh. Just as her lips were about to see what other sounds she could draw out, a horn honked. Melodramatically resting her forehead on Maura’s shoulder, she groaned her protest.

“As you said, I’m only gone for a day,” Maura said. 

Jane grunted.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Fine.” She lifted her head and sighed. “Leave me all alone with the beer and the pizza.”

Maura’s mouth dropped. “You promised me you wouldn’t just eat pizza.”

“Did I?” She waited for Maura to play back their conversation. “Ah-ha. Have a safe trip.” She stopped any further protest with a kiss. The horn honked again. “If you get bored at the conference, text me. I’ll send you snapchats of Bass dressed like a pirate.” Jane reached around to open the door.

“You two be good.” She kissed Jane once more, then collected her bags and tossed a final smile over her shoulder. 

Jane waved and waited until the taxi was out of sight before closing the door. Looking around, she said aloud, “Where _is_ that turtle?”

…...

She kept her non-promise and hadn’t eaten pizza, knowing that pizza would mean beer which would mean the game at 7 which would mean missing the last chance to finish the task that had somehow whittled its way down to 24 hours. Not that she hadn’t tried to finish it before today, but the passport case had led to a cold one that crossed two state lines. Then, it was TJ’s birthday. Then, her father showed up and stayed in town long enough to upset the apple cart before slinking back to Florida. Jane rested her chin on her folded arms and sighed at the gaggle of cranes that surrounded her on the marble table top. 

“If only you had opposable thumbs, Bass.” She heard the gentle thump of a not-so-fast getaway. “Traitor.”

She sighed again then revelled in a long stretch, shook her head and slipped another piece of paper from the stack. The doorbell stopped her in mid-fold. With a slight frown, she slid from the bar stool and was at the door in a few easy strides. A glance in the peephole brought a smile to her face. 

“What are you two doing here?”

Brooks popped his head in to glance around. “Still got that 52 inch TV? Bruins are on and we brought pizza.”

Susie gently shoved him with her shoulder. “We’re here to help with the Senbazuru. We’ve also brought beer.”

“The stuff from Philly?” When Brooks grinned, Jane swung the door wide. “Come on in, my two favourite people. Take your shoes off. She’ll know.”

“You just want to take the pizza from me.”

Jane shrugged at her partner’s accusation. “The fridge is over there.” Susie stood, mouth agape as she looked around the home. “Haven’t you been here before?”

She shook her head.

“It’s not going to bite you, Chang. You might want to watch for the turtle, though.”

“Tortoise,” Susie corrected.

“Great. She’s got you doing it, too.”

Brooks sat at the kitchen island and Jane watched him do a quick count of the cranes scattered across its surface. “Is this it?” he asked. “You’ve done more than this, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

His blue eyes narrowed. “You needed to do 672 the last time we talked about it. How many have you done?” She mumbled something under her breath that he didn’t quite catch. “Pardon?”

“338.” He blinked, but before he had a chance to voice his disbelief, she said, “I know, I know. It’s the Tanner case’s fault. We worked overtime on it and I was lucky to get as many done as I did.”

He conceded the point with a nod. “Okay. So how many are here? Looks like 55.”

She flipped a few upside down. “56.”

Susie pulled out her phone. “You really should keep better track and, with three of us, this counter will make things much easier.”

“You’re really going to help me?” Jane asked.

“According to the tradition, we shouldn’t. But,” she glanced down shyly, “it’s very romantic. I can’t imagine Dr. Isles will mind.”

“Remind me to talk to you later about setting bars too high, partner,” Brooks whispered out of the side of his mouth.

Susie grinned. “How many can you do in 60 minutes?”

Jane grabbed some plates. “Uh, about 15?”

“Okay. That’s approximately 45 an hour between the 3 of us, with a plus/minus of 4, taking into account neither Ash nor I have done this before.”

“Origami virgins, huh?” Jane teased, pulling a slice of pepperoni from the pizza.

“Which means,” Susie valiantly continued, “we should be able to finish your task in six hours.”

The beer stopped halfway to Brooks’ lips. “Are you shitting me?”

The cheese fought gravity in vain, stretching from Jane’s fingers to the table top.

“Factoring in the pizza, perhaps six and a half would be closer to the mark?” Susie hedged.

Draining half his beer in one pull, Brooks set the bottle to the side. “Let’s do this.” He cracked his knuckles for emphasis and laughed at Jane’s reaction.

…..

Despite the pizza, the beer, and a shootout in the Bruins game, it took an hour less than Susie had predicted. The couple had discovered a natural talent for the paper folding, and Brooks in particular had taken to the task with zeal. Susie challenged them with time trials that ended up with as much laughter as cranes. When the clock struck midnight, Jane held up her beer.

“A final toast,” she said. “To two great people - I couldn’t have done this without you. I owe you.”

Susie tapped her bottle to Jane’s and Brooks’. “I’m glad we could help. I really had fun!”

“I’m gonna chalk this up as one of the weirdest things I’ll ever do for a partner, but I was glad to do it, Jane.” Brooks emptied his beer and said, “Home stretch now.”

“Nah,” Jane replied, “I’ll take it from here. There’s only six left and I’m going to take this over to the couch, because if I don’t get off this stool, my ass is going to take root.” She slid off the seat and groaned into a stretch. “The guest room’s down the hall to the right. Unless you need two rooms?” She raised a teasing eyebrow.

Susie’s cheeks turned pink. “No, one will be sufficient.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jane smirked, ignoring her partner’s glare. “Bathroom’s across the hall. Check the dresser; there’s probably something you can sleep in.”

“You sure?” Brooks asked. “We made it this far.”

She shook her head. “No. You guys did more than enough. Besides, I’ve got something in mind for the last one. Go get some sleep.”

Brooks stood and his body gave a protest of its own. “Okay, partner.”

“In the morning, you can figure out how her space ship coffee thing works.”

He raised his hand in acknowledgment as he and Susie made their way down the hall.

…..

“Stay here.”

“I’m not letting you go out there by yourself.”

“Suze, I’m a cop. There’s another cop in the house. We got this.”

Despite Brooks’ assurance, when he poked his head out of the bedroom door, Susie was at his shoulder. A noise had woken him them both; a noise which at first had been passed off as a meandering tortoise until Susie’s keen ear determined otherwise. It was a click rather than a clack, she had scientifically explained. To Brooks, whatever it was wasn’t good. Slipping out of the bed, he grabbed the baseball bat from the corner and quietly turned the door handle. It was then that he discovered he wasn’t going to be doing this alone. Conceding to her insistence, he held a finger to his lips and after a quick glance around, began creeping down the hall. When he saw Jane sprawled out on the couch, dead to the world, he stopped. Then, the front door opened.

Brooks realized who it was immediately, but didn’t have time to lower the bat before Maura turned and jumped in fright. The small squeal that escaped her lips was enough to finally wake Jane, who bolted upright, oblivious to the errant crane that had somehow made a nest in her hair overnight. Brooks didn’t move, standing stock still in his boxers and T-shirt while Susie clung to his shoulders from behind. 

Having caught her breath, Maura was the first to speak. “What is going on?”

“Sorry, Dr. Isles,” Susie replied in a rush. “We heard a sound and it didn’t sound good so we decided to come out and see what the sound was.”

Maura nodded slowly. “I took Jane’s keys by mistake. You have too many keys on this ring.” She looked to Jane, but in doing so, was finally able to take in the entire scene. Cranes upon cranes littered the counters and tables. “What…” 

Confounded by the scene, Jane’s first words were, “Is that my Nomar bat?”

Brooks frowned. “What?” He looked down and realized what Jane meant. “No, it’s not your precious Nomar bat. It was behind the door in the guest room. Maybe focus on something a bit more important?” He used the bat to gesture towards Maura.

“You’re early,” Jane blurted. 

Maura shook her head at the exchange. “The keynote speaker ate the sashimi last night, despite my repeated warnings,” she explained. “The conference was cancelled. I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Surprise!”

Maura turned to Brooks and nodded at his playful exclamation. “Yes.”

Jane scrambled to her feet and held out her arms, as if she could hide the presence of over 300 scattered paper cranes. “You weren’t supposed to be back until this afternoon.”

“You finished it,” Maura said, ignoring Jane’s lament. “You really did it.”

“Yeah, well,” she waved in Susie’s and Brooks’ direction. The couple smiled in unison. “I had a lot of help.” Hearing the words, she quickly added, “I know I’m supposed to do it myself, but I started and then the next thing I knew, I had a month left, then a week, then a day, and I know-”

Maura silenced her with a kiss. “It doesn’t matter.”

“If it means anything, I did the last ones myself.”

“It means everything.”

“You did do them, right?” Brooks asked.

“Shut up,” Jane retorted, though she couldn’t disguise the fact she was mentally counting the cranes on the coffee table. “Five,” she whispered. “Five?? Shit. Shit. Give me one minute.”

“It takes you three and a half to make one,” Susie helpfully provided, oblivious to the glare she received in return.

“Wait,” Maura said. Touching Jane’s arm with one hand, she reached up with the other and carefully released the paper bird from its nest. She turned it over, expecting to see a number, like she had with all the others. She saw something else instead. Eyes suddenly wet with tears, she dared a glance at Jane.

Brooks picked up the significance of Maura’s reaction. “We should go,” he whispered over his shoulder.

“No,” Jane said, “no, you shouldn’t.” Gently removing the ring from the paper folds, she faltered. “I didn’t know what to get. I mean, you deserve the biggest ring in the world. Something as beautiful as you.” Her cheeks flushed at her own words. “But you’re not like that. You’re simple. Not simple. You’re really complex, but at the same time… you’re just you. So I tried to get you something in between.” She looked down at the modest band of diamonds and took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Should I get on one knee? How does this work?”

“However you want it to, Jane,” Brooks replied.

She smiled though she only had eyes for the woman in front of her. “Okay. How are you feeling?” A small line formed between Maura’s brows. “I mean, you’re healthy? No sniffles? No coughing? In complete control of your mental facilities?”

“Faculties.”

Jane grinned at the automatic correction. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

“I told you, Jane...my answer will always be ‘yes’.”

“Okay,” Jane barrelled onward. “Because I just wanted to make sure last time wasn’t the NyQuil talking.”

“Is that what this is all about? You weren’t sure?”

Jane shrugged but shook her head. “No. I was sure. But when Brooks brought up the whole ‘what are you going to ask for when you’re done?’ I couldn’t think of anything. The best thing I could ask for is you.”

Susie choked back a sob and a sigh.

“So, Maura Isles, will you… you know.” Maura raised a teasing eyebrow and Jane’s dramatic sigh made everyone laugh. “Okay, okay.” She straightened her shoulders and touched the ring against Maura’s finger. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes. I don’t know why you would even ask.” Jane’s growl was covered with another kiss, this one deeper than the first.

“Now we should definitely go,” Brooks said. “I don’t even have my pants on!”

His complaint went unheard by the women standing in the middle of the room, with a sedge of cranes as their only witness.

-end.

Longer A/N: Even while the show was still going, I had started to blend my own canon in with the show’s, and in the process, created my own timeline. When I thought about writing a sequel to “It’s Only a Paper Crane”, I realized there was a kind of chronology to several stories I had already written, so with that in mind, it sort of goes like this:

-Blind Spots

-Bread and Butter

-Knots

-It’s Only a Paper Crane

-Bad Kinda Girl

-In Sickness and in Health

-It’s a Paper Crane Parade

There are other pre-established Rizzles stories that can fit pretty much anywhere in between!

The title for both crane fics comes from the Ella Fitzgerald song, “It’s Only a Paper Moon”.

 

 

 

 


End file.
